it, he realized that while he'd been occupied with preparing for court, the shakkan had slyly put out a handful of new buds.
"Nice," he said with a grim smile. "But you still don't get to keep them."
When the maid came to wake them before dawn, she found Briar asleep with his head on his desk, one arm around his shakkan. Tiny clippings from the tree lay next to its tray from its late night trimming.
* * *
Chapter Eight
The 30th day of Goose Moon, 1043 K.F.
Landreg House, Dancruan, to
Clehamat Landreg (Landreg Estate), Namorn
Rizu, Jak, Fin, and Caidlene arrived with the dawn, just as the hostlers were bringing out horses for Sandry and her escorts. They all greeted one another sleepily. No one was inclined to conversation at that hour. Zhegorz, who had shown a tendency to talk rapidly in bursts the night before, huddled silently in the patched coat they had found for him. He rolled his eyes at the sleepy-eyed cob who had been saddled lor his use, but once he was on the sturdy gelding's back, he seemed to do well enough.
Ambros, pulling on his riding gloves, frowned as he looked at their scarecrow. "How shall we explain him?" Sandry's cousin wanted to know. "You can't just go around adding strangers to your entourage without questions being asked, Cousin, particularly not when you came to us without a single guardsman or maid."
Sandry looked crisp in her blossom pink riding tunic and wide-legged breeches, but her brain had yet to catch up. "Ambros, how can you even think of such a thing at this hour?" she demanded, and yawned.
He gazed up at her as she sat on her mare, his blue eyes frosty. "Because there are going to be at least two spies outside the gates, and more on the way," he added. "Young women in Namorn do not enjoy the license they appear to do in the south, Cousin. There are good reasons for that."
Jak leaned drowsily on his saddle horn. "Can't we just let the spies guess and decide when we're awake?" he asked.
Ambros glared at him, his mouth tight.
"I think we're probably supposed to be spies, too," said Caidlene, who had been lively enough the afternoon before. "Which is silly, because we'd have to be awake to be spies." She sipped from a flask that steamed in the chilly spring air. "Tea, anyone?
"He's my secretary, all right?" demanded Sandry, out of patience with it all. "I didn't realize what a complicated social life I should be leading in Namorn, so I had to hire a Namornese secretary, Cousin — will that satisfy you? May we get on with our lives?"
Ambros snorted and mounted his gelding. Zhegorz looked around at his travelling companions and their guards. "Secretary? I don't even have pens, or ink, or—"
Briar leaned over and slapped him on the shoulder. "I'll set you up in style," he reassured Zhegorz. "You'll be a king of secretaries."
As a pair of guards opened the gates, their company formed up in pairs to ride through. Leading the way with Ambros, Sandry heard Zhegorz complain, "I'm not sure I even know how to write."
And here I thought Tris was the one who was always bringing home strays, thought Sandry, shaking her head as they rode onto High Street. Now she's got Daja and Briar and me doing it, too. She glanced sidelong at Ambros, whose long mouth was tight. She couldn't help it: Her own lips twitched. I would love to hear Ambros explain how I can have a social secretary who can't write.
Just as Tris had vaguely warned them the day before, rain began to fall as the servants closed the house gates behind them. Ambros halted their party, looking at Sandry as Rizu moaned and Caidlene sneezed.
Sandry turned in the saddle. "Tris?" she asked.
Tris, who already had a book in one hand, looked up, startled. Sandry indicated that water was falling from the sky — though surely even Tris would notice when her book got wet! she thought.
The redhead glared up at the clouds. Though Sandry saw or felt nothing, the soft rain parted, streaming to either side of their company, just as if they were protected by a glass shield. Tris looked around, making sure that everyone, including their guards and packhorses, was included under her protection. Then she raised her eyebrows to silently ask, All right?
That's our Tris, thought Sandry, resigned to her sister's eccentricities. She nodded and turned to Ambros, who stared at Tris, unnerved.